


expresso yourself (or don't)

by orphan_account



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - You've Got Mail Fusion, CREEK ISNT EVIL, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hate to Love, Healthy Relationships, M/M, Online Dating, Slow Burn, Tumblr, creek likes scented candles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 15:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Hate is a strong word, love.""Call me 'love' one more time and I'll barf on you."Branch owns a relatively successful cafe. Creek drops in constantly to piss him off. Unbeknownst to either of them, they've fallen helplessly in love with one another on Tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

> gODDAMN IM JUST HAPPY THIS IS OUT this first chapter isn't the best but ya boy gotta set up the plot so hang on
> 
> its been a while since i wrote a multichap fic but ive ran out of fics to read so might as well add some more shit to the pot
> 
> [INSPIRED BY 'YOU'VE GOT MAIL']

Branch didn't consider himself depressed, per say. Distant? Yes. Disinterested? Absolutely. Occasionally daydreamed about his impending death and the melancholy reminder that life is worthless? Of course. But depressed? No. Depressed implied he cared enough about his mental wellbeing - or wellbeing in general - to properly conclude a diagnosis. Which he did not, deciding instead to describe himself as having "particular interests".  
  
At least, that's what his tumblr bio said.  
  
The aloof, lofi loving, generally-a-terrible-human-being, homosexual hipster he was, it was only a matter of time before he indulged in the world of tumblr. His feed was a masterpiece of organised chaos; a mismash of anime gifs, indie music, conspiricy theories, and astrology memes, that all somehow fit his monochrome theme.  
  
Honestly, it started as just an on and off hobby to fill up the endless void of his life, and to feed his constant need for control. (Not the endearing Christian Grey type, mind you. - if that self obsessed fictional twat could even be considered endearing at all.) And, by some grace (?) of God, he'd managed to gain a relatively loyal following that Branch feigned indifference to, but deep down held a bittersweet pride for, as though the blog was an overachieving child.  
  
Another perk that came with his tumblr was the presence of a little someone called "bootyisatemple"; a blog full of pastel tones, violet sunsets, scented candles, endless endorsements of lush products, and a near consistent stream of positive vibes.  
  
And Branch was irefutibely in love with the man behind it.  
  
Their conversations had started off small, a mere nod to one anothers existence and their shared appreciation for one anothers feeds ("How do you manage to keep everything black and white?" "A hefty dose of self loathing and the occassional hashtag."), their memes ("I'm gonna block you the next time you reblog a pastel edit of the cash me ousside girl." "Howbow dah."), and their music taste ("Maybe it you stopped listening to depressing music, you'd stop being such a Debbie Downer." "Maybe if you stopped posting pictures of your legs in the bath, I wouldn't want to Sally Shove my foot up your ass.")  
  
That was months ago, but Branch still woke up some days purely to check his inbox. And 99% of the time, he wasn't dissapointed.  
  
_bootyisatemple :- I can't believe you watch 13RW. It's such a bad representation of mental health issues that it made me cringe. Like, this bland cardboard cutout of a teenager says "She died because I was scared to love her" like no, she died because she was suicidal you wet lemon. Bloody white kids._  
  
Branch rolled his eyes at the opinionated message, numb to the potential offense musings of his, well, muse. He didn't hesitate before typing his own response.  
  
_moveimgray :- That whole paragraph is 13 Reasons Why you'd be a terrible person to watch anything with._  
  
Assuming a relaxed position, Branch leaned back in his desk chair, halfway to putting his hands behind his head when he heard the telltale ping of his inbox going off, the sound of which made his body jerk instinctively into a prepared ready-to-respond stance.

 _bootyisatemple :- No netflix and chill, then? :(_  
  
_ moveimgray :- Your condoms probably smell like yankee candles, so no thanks._  
  
_ bootyisatemple :- Like you can talk. You probably haven't smiled since MCR broke up, of course, I could always fix that. ;)_  
  
Despite his 'cool' response, Branch was practically hyperveltilating; a blush violently spreading on his face as he held back a manly screech. He didn't gush over utter strangers on the internet. He was a hotheaded, sadistic, friendless piece of shit with no personality. Completely incapable of romance.  
  
_moveimgray :- Sorry, I'm not into creepy zen freaks online._  
  
Incapable of forming bonds.  
  
_ bootyisatemple :- I'm sure I could change your mind._  
  
Incapable of joy.

 _moveimgray :- Try me, pastel boy._  
  
_ bootyisatemple :- Trust me, I'd love to._  
  
_ moveimgray :- I'm blocking you, bye._  
  
With a roll of his eyes, and a solemn attempt of removing the deep crimson flush from his sickly pale skin, Branch powered down his computer before he could become hopelessly lost in conversation with the man.  
  
Yes, Branch was irresponsibly in love with a someone who's name was still a complete mystery to him, who just so happened to be his lone notable friend. Not that he minded, since friends brought drama and betrayal, and he simply wasn't about all that. He preferred keeping himself to himself and that was that, of course, with one exception.  
  
The fact of him being adverse to friendship was something that people picked up on easily from the wholly negative aura and forever lasting resting bitch face. It was only when he went to work that he managed to muster up the energy to be a halfway decent person/source of conversation. Mostly because his job was the only thing keeping him afloat. Mildly because he actually held sentimental value in the cafe that had been with him growing up.  
  
Trudging along to his job, Branch kept his hands shoved deep within the ominous depths of his pockets, back almost hunched to Notre Dam levels, eyes hooded in exasperation. Blaring from his earphones was a song his tumblr 'sweetheart' had suggested; some acoustic track with a wispy girl singing over it about feelings or some other shit Branch didn't care for. He'd start an educated argument with his friend about it later. "Educated argument" being codeword for "Completely roast him".  
  
On the flip side, he'd attempted to ease bootyisatemple into Slipknot by sending him a link to "Snuff". What he hadn't expected was a four paragraph long rant about how "SCREAMO IS FOR GOTH WANKERS AND SHOULDN'T EVEN BE CLASSED AS MUSIC" after a click had been made to one of their more on brand songs. Apparently you couldn't relax in a bath to the sound of guttural groans. Good to know.  
  
Not that Branch ever relaxed, mind you. He was a paranoid conspiricy theorist with a knack for making even the calmest situation tense, pressing on and on about the potential hazards and lack of value in peoples actions. Rather than taking the high road, he took the road that would cause him the least amount of trouble. He didn't consider himself a pessimist, per say - a realist, perhaps - he just didn't build himself up to... well... anything, really.  
  
It wasn't like Branch didn't feel happiness at all (his messages at a glance could prove that easily), he just didn't find it in conventional places. Some people called this narrowminded. He called it normal. Certain things definitely provoked positive feelings within him; the History channel, music without lyrics, lizards in party hats, certain conversations... It just wasn't common.  
  
A dull drilling sound brought him out of his daydreaming stupor, and a quick look across the street helped him conclude that construction was taking place directly across from his cafe. Great. His plans of relaxing in a silence only broken by soft jazz music playing from the speakers was a distant fantasy, instead replaced by the grating sound of powertools hitting the concrete.  
  
"Apparently they're building another cafe over the road." A shrill old voice spoke from beside him, Branch instantly recognising it as the bitter lady beside him that sold flowers and complained about teenagers on a near hourly basis. Branch merely shot her a look of acknowledgement, before turning back and placing his key in the front door of the place.  
  
"Don't know, don't care." He spoke bluntly, prevoking a quick huff from the woman near him, not sparing her another moment before pushing the entrance open without a second thought. The blissful aroma of pastry and tenderly baked desserts entered his system immediately, and he concluded that Biggie must have gotten there early again to get a head start.  
  
Branch didn't care to learn details about his staff. Biggie was a large, soft guy, with a knack for making confectionaries and an abnormally large caterpiller that Branch was 99% sure shouldn't be near the food. Suki mainly slacked off listening to her own mixes that were only allowed to play on Friday nights, when they had an influx of college students that wanted "sweet tunes, dude, not this dreary ass shit". Cooper was a towering teenager, who constantly looked like he was in a state of confusion, that never seemed to remove the beanie from his dreads.  
  
That was honestly all Branch needed to know. As long as they did their jobs, and he paid them above minimun wage hourly, there wasn't much need for anything past formalities. They made his life easier, and he rewarded that with money. That's all there was to it; they weren't his friends, even if they were all practically his age, give or take one of two years.  
  
Yes, all was fine and dandy at Cafe Gris - the cafe which had most definitely been Branch's grandmother's best achievement. He'd watched it as a child, watched strangers come and go, each leaving with their chests a little lighter, and their auras slightly warmer. His grandmother tended to have that effect, right up until her passing.  
  
"Branch! You're looking a lot less doom and gloom this morning!" Biggie poked his head around the door to the kitchen and exclaimed with a cheesy grin. Branch returned this gesture with a stone faced glare, causing the other to retreet, muttering a, "Nope, there it is, Mr Dinkles."  
  
Whilst passing the various tables to the counter, the owner noticed Suki laying down in one of the booths, obnoxiously chewing gun and listening to trap remixes without headphones. Ignoring the blaring white noise, he whipped her apron off of its statuary position on the wall, relentlessly tossing it at her and being sure to hit her dead on with it, before grabbing his own.  
  
"You heard about that new cafe yet? Might drive us outta business, bro, whatcha gon' do?" Suki challenged, rising to her feet reluctantly, making a show of her unwillingness to happily cooperate.  
  
"People around here don't like change. It'll be run out of town just as quickly as the last one." Branch rolled his eyes as he spoke, regarding the younger girl with a pinch of salt. What he said was true; the people of Trollstice hated things that messed with the norm. They stuck to a routine, and when that was broken, well - ask the countless new stores that had almost instantly gone bankrupt due to the collective consensus and lack of service.  
  
"I heard it's gonna be the biggest..." A new voice chimed in from behind Branch, causing the man to violently jerk into an attentive state. As he moved, Cooper revealed himself; arms full of flavourings that he'd been retrieving from behind the counter. "The loudest..." His voice raised an octave and a decibal, slamming the ingredients down as his boss cringed at the potential damages. "The CRAZIEST cafe ever!" He finished with a lopsided smile, regarding the snickering of his red haired coworker with a mindful eye.  
  
Branch let out a staggered breath, still recovering from the jumpscare. "Okay, first of all, I don't think cafes can be ANY of those things. People come in, get drinks, and leave. Does that sound like a party to any of you?" At sight of Cooper's move widening as if to say something, he immeditely continued, "Don't answer that." The mouth instantly snapped shut.  
  
A subtle chime disrupted the potential debate, bringing everyones attention to the door, the group seeming to have forgotten that they were open for business. This sound was proceeded by a whistle that had an underlying tone of arrogance, one of which sent a familiar shudder down Branch's spine and heavily set a grimace upon his features.  
  
"Now, ain't this a pretty picture!" An accented voice laughed, almost mockingly. Branch nearly broke out into a stream of curses just hearing it.  
  
"Fuck off, Creek." Branch ground out behind gritted teeth, turning until his eyes locked onto the tanned male's frame, eyes avoiding the flurocent mess upon his head in fear of being blinded. The pale boy blanched at the thought of having to spend a mere second in the presence of this absolute dick for longer than he needed to.  
  
"Now, now, Branch! Is that any way to speak to your customers?" Creek grinned, sending nods of acknowledgement to Suki and Cooper, the two silently correlating their responses, knowing that they wouldn't be able to get a word in edgeways now that the two boys had started to clash. Though Biggie had peeked his head in for a moment, he'd immediately removed it, knowing nothing good could come of this.  
  
"Not my customers. Just you. Now, do everyone here a favour and leave."  
  
"Listen Branch, I'm only here for a cuppa, so maybe you should be doing everyone a favour by calming your negative energy--"  
  
"I'll show you fucking negative energy, you know it all sack of--"  
  
And so forth. Branch couldn't actually pinpoint a specific moment the rivalry between him and Creek had started. Actually, no. He could. He could remember fucking vividly the moment he started brewing hatred deep within for the arrogant individual in question, whom everyone seemed to completely adore for a reason that was completely beyond him.  
  
_You see, Creek had a knack for either not knowing or not caring that someone was pissed off at him, and tended to profusely pour salt onto the wounds he created. So when Branch had already been in a completely bitter mood due to the lack of internet attention that day, his comments hadn't been appreciated. Not in the slightest._  
  
_"You know, you really should brighten up the place. I'm gettin' second'and depression just standin' here." Creek had spoken loudly, drawing attention of the tables surrounding him as he addressed Branch (a complete stranger at the time) specifically._  
  
_What he said barely contained a lick of truth, regardless. Whilst the decor wasn't the most outrageously boisterous, it barely resembled any sort of gothic culture at all. It was a minimalistic place that had an air of relaxation; the muted colour scheme providing a place that you could merely sit in a space of bliss without getting a headache from bright tones. That's what his Grandmother had wanted for it. That's how he was keeping it._  
  
_"Did anyone ask for your opinion?" Branch had immediately retorted, snuffing the individual, not paying him attention as he complied with other orders. Although, he was still aware of the other's being looming at the counter, he chose to ignore it. He barely had the energy to get up that day, let alone retort to some ratty hipster and his unnecessary opinions--_  
  
_"I'm just saying, a little possitivity could go a long way. It looks like a bloody morgue in here! Did someone die or somethin'?"_  
  
_Creek had barely been able to get another word in before Branch had leaned over the counter and socked him in the jaw._  
  
Of course, with Creek's nature, that hadn't been the end of it. No, the broken jaw ended up giving him an insentive to keep coming back again. And again. Honestly, his arrival at the cafe ended up being routine, but one Branch would much rather stop. Nothing put him in a bad mood faster than seeing that assholes smug face wander in without a care in the world.  
  
And that day was just like any other. Creek came in, all high and mighty. Branch tried to knock him down to size. Biggie broke them apart with a random tale about Mr Dinkles, or Suki blasted "Why Cant We Be Friends", or Cooper screamed and hid under the counter. Then Creek left, still grinning, and Branch was left to contemplate how bad prison really was.  
  
"Branch. Listen. Aren't you tired of this back and forth bickering? Why can't we just speak like regular people?"  
  
"How many times do I have to say I hate you before it registers?"  
  
"Hate is a strong word, love."  
  
"Call me 'love' one more time and I'll barf on you."  
  
"Well isn't that just romantic."  
  
"Cry me a river, pretty boy."  
  
Oh, and was the fact Creek was practically a walking sex god brought up? Because, much to Branch's dismay, he was. Annoyingly so. The flick of his hair was crafted perfectly, the clothes he wore accentuated him in all the right ways, the craftmanship of his features was truly a monumentous thing to witness. That's why Branch avoided looking at him at all costs; do not wish to bed thine enemy was rule number one of hating someone.  
  
"Branch, my dear, I'm honoured but I'm afraid I have prior engagements."  
  
"Yeah? Who to?"  
  
In a convenient strike of brilliance, the door swung open with a deafening chime, revealing a short perky girl with vibrant pink hair and a face that practically gleamed in the sunlight strolled in, eyes glistening in happiness as she stepped with a spring in every movement.  
  
Branch could practically feel whatever colour in his face drain as he heard the words that proceeded to leave her mouth:  
  
"Hi there! I'm Poppy, and I'm moving into the shop across the way! I love hugs and singing and meeting new people so I really hope that we can be hella good friends, even though we're technically rivals." Then, a bubbly laugh escaped her chest. One that made Branch's head almost instantly ache. Too much concentrated happiness in one person had to be impossible - at least, Branch had hoped it was impossible. But he was staring right at sunshine itself, right behind the bane of his existence.  
  
Apparently sensing the shift in Branch's aura, Creek smirked, letting out a huff of laughter as he drank in the others helpless form. It was almost as though he'd planned it; drag Branch down into a pool of anger, only to propell him further into madness by dragging this... Rainbow into his cafe. Suki and Cooper shared a knowing look, before Suki piped up with a loud voice.  
  
"Hey, uh, Branch, yo. Biggie totally needs you in the back right now!" Ripping himself away from casting glances between both the pink haired girl (Polly? Poppy?) and Creek in exasperation, Branch twisted on his heel, silently planning to give Suki a raise without having to formally thank her. Despite his lack of moral compass, Branch knew when he was indebted to someone. And that was definitely now.  
  
Paying no mind to Creek's almost mocking, "See you later, love," and Poppy's questioning tone as she wondered where he was going, Branch made his way to the back of the store, completely ignoring Biggie's confused gaze as he sank to his knees in tiredness.  
  
"There's no fucking way I can do this." He muttered to himself, head resting in his hands. Branch could deal with a lot of things. The looming threat of death? Yes. His coworkers consistently pestering him into attending loud, obnoxious meetings? Absolutely. The morning ritual between him and Creek that almost always ended with both of them painted black and blue? Of course.  
  
But all of this things PLUS a cafe owner who was the human equivalent of unicorn barf that seemed to have some sort of relationship with his arch nemesis and bane-of-his-existence who was likely going to be dropping in a lot more than usual now?  
  
_Branch wasn't going to survive a week._


End file.
